


imagine a world like that

by Bellelaide



Series: ENT [6]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, england nt, gender swap, girl Jordan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 19:15:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellelaide/pseuds/Bellelaide
Summary: Jordan goes to bed wishing he was a girl. He wakes up, and he’s definitely not a man anymore.





	imagine a world like that

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! 
> 
> This is part of the bde universe but it doesn’t affect the story line, doesn’t change anything. I just really wanted to explore this idea!

It was a Tuesday night, and Jordan was complaining. 

He was complaining about homophobia and moaning that they’d never be able to carry their own children, if they ever decided to have them. He was whinging about what the world would say if they knew John and Jordan were together and in love. 

John got it, he did - but Jordan was going onto his third hour when John snapped. 

“What do you want me to do, Jordan?” John barked, throwing his spoon down on the table. “I get it. It’s fucking - it’s shit. But why are you complaining at me? You’re giving me a headache!” 

“Oh wow, nice, John, really nice. So supportive. That’s brilliant, that is! Love you so fucking much, too!” 

John rolled his eyes. “Come off it. You’re fucking annoying me, Jordan, can you just - I’m trying to eat dinner!” 

“Fuck off, John, seriously. All you care about is yourself. That’s all you think about!” 

“What do you want, Jordan? You want to be a fucking woman? That’s the only way you won’t have these problems. Not being funny, but you’re not the first man shagging a man who ever lived.” 

“You’d love it if I were a woman, wouldn’t you? Never did like cock,” Jordan spat, being mean for no reason. 

“Never liked - right enough, Jordan, I’m entirely straight but I’m with you for the shits and giggles. Oh my god. You’re infuriating!” 

“Yeah, maybe I am! Maybe I do wish I was a woman! I’m sorry I want a normal life for us, you prick!” 

“We’ve got a normal life!” John bellowed, throwing his plate into the sink. “The only thing not normal is you!” he stormed upstairs, slamming the bedroom door closed, and fell onto the bed. 

It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, and he didn’t even register when Jordan came into the room, sliding into bed beside him. They slept on opposite sides of the bed, both falling into equally uneasy dreams. 

— 

Jordan felt that something was different as soon as he woke up. 

He rolled over in bed and stretched, groaning a bit. John was sleeping soundly next to him, nothing but a tuft of curly dark hair sticking out from the edge of the bed sheets. Jordan reached out for his phone and scrolled through the night’s notifications, checked his email. He couldn’t shake this niggling feeling of something being off whilst he did so, and he hoped he wasn’t coming down with something. Before long he became acutely aware of his bladder and he threw his legs out of the bed and peered around in the darkness of the room, considering turning on the lamp but not wanting to wake John. Jordan put his hands on the mattress and pushed himself up and - something was really, really different. 

His balance felt off. He felt - lower to the ground, if that was possible. He frowned and started off towards the bathroom, wondering if it was an ear infection he’d developed that was messing with his senses. Jordan shuffled over to the toilet, flipped up the lid, and stuck his hands down his shorts for his cock - and screamed. 

It was a high pitched, piercing scream of absolute terror. Jordan felt around wildly but there was nothing - no penis, no balls - in fact, it felt like a vagina. Jordan continued to scream at the top of his lungs and John came crashing into the bathroom, flicking on the light and looking around in a panic. His eyes fell on Jordan and John started to scream himself. 

“What the fuck?!” He bellowed, pointing at Jordan. “Who - what the fuck?!” 

Jordan spun around and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and his mouth fell open. There, staring back at him, was a woman. 

It was Jordan, alright - there was no denying that that was his face. His features were softer, though, more feminine - his lips were fuller and his eyelashes longer. He had brows that had been plucked into two perfect arches, emphasising the roundness of his eyes. He had hair - lots of hair, long, blonde hair that was tied up in a pony tail but still fell to the nape of his neck. He was in this tiny little body, all curves and soft skin, a little waist but with big hips. He tentatively touched his chest - there was a pair of breasts on it. Big, round, perky breasts. He dropped his hands like he’d burned himself and turned around slowly in the mirror, checking - he still had a huge arse. Maybe even a bigger arse than before - definitely bigger. 

“Jordan?” John said, barely a whisper. “Is that you?” 

“Who the fuck else would it be?!” Jordan snapped, his voice soft and high and female. 

“I dunno, I was pretty sure you were a man when I went to bed last night. And you’re not now.” 

“No fucking shit, Sherlock,” Jordan said, turning back to the mirror. “10/10 observation skills, as usual.” 

“What the fuck is going on?” John said, putting a hand to his head and collapsing down onto the side of the bath. “Jordan? I feel like I’m losing my mind.” 

“I don’t know. I - I just woke up like this. I don’t know. Oh my god. What if I never go back?” 

“I think I’m going to pass out.” 

“Put your head between your legs then,” Jordan said, scowling. “Earth to John, it’s me who’s woken up in a different body, not you.” 

“But what - how - how can this happen?!” John squealed, face turning sickly green. “I must be dreaming. I must - “ 

“Oh, stop being so fucking dramatic,” Jordan snapped, dragging his eyes away from the mirror and standing with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why. But this is where we’re at. We’ll have to deal with it, alright?” 

John blinked at Jordan. “We’ll have to deal with it.” 

“Yes, we’ll have to deal with it.” 

“With you being a woman.” 

“With me having a woman’s body, hopefully temporarily.” 

“With you... having...” John’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “You have a pussy, Jordan.” 

“I’m well aware.” 

John’s face began to change as he realised what this meant. His eyes slowly lit up. “You have tits and a fanny.” 

“Lots of girls do, yes.” 

John stood up suddenly, and it was the most unnerving sensation - when he’d been sat down they were about eye level, but unfurled to his full height John was big - much, much bigger than Jordan. Jordan tipped back his head to look up at him, and felt a tiny spark of fear - the sudden realisation that they were physically very, very different, and Jordan could easily be at John’s mercy. He could only compare it to the feeling of being in a fight when an opponent pulls a weapon - the sudden unsteadying realisation that the balance of power has shifted. 

“Woah,” they both breathed at the same time, instantly taking steps back from each other. 

“You’re tiny,” John said at the exact same time as Jordan squeaked “You’re huge.” 

“Are we really as big as that?” Jordan said under his breath, looking up at John and imagining himself at the same height. “I’ve never realised before.” 

“You’re so little. You’re literally so small.” John repeated dumbly, eyes glazed. 

“Why are you being so stupid this morning? I’ve woken up as a girl and you’ve woken up as a moron?” 

“Definitely still you,” John replied, rolling his eyes. “Sorry that I’m in awe of your literal brand new body, Jordan.” 

Jordan turned back to the mirror, ignoring that comment. He pulled the hair tie out and let his hair fall around his shoulders, staring at himself in wonder. He looked good, he thought - he looked healthy and glowy. He’d definitely fuck himself. John came up behind him in the mirror and watched him too, eyes raking up and down Jordan’s body. Jordan stared at him. 

“Go away from me. The size of you is freaking us out.” 

The tip of Jordan’s head just about reached John’s clavicle, and he lurked behind Jordan menacingly, eyes shining. “I want to touch your pussy. Oh my god, I’ve missed fanny - “ 

Jordan gasped in outrage. “Fuck you. You’ve missed fanny? Fuck you. Don’t be with a man if you like vagina that much.” 

“Aw Jordan, don’t - I fucking love you, alright? I love your cock. But don’t tell me you don’t miss a good vagina from time to time.” 

Jordan did, but he’d never admit that to John. “No. Fuck you. You’ve upset me there.” 

“You really are a woman, aren’t you.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Let me eat you out,” John said, bringing his mouth down to whisper the words into Jordan’s ear. “I want to lick your clit.” 

“Holy fuck - say that again,” Jordan gasped, squeezing his thighs together. “Oh my god. This is the weirdest feeling in the world.” 

“Are you getting wet? Jesus. Let me touch it, Jord,” John breathed, snaking his hand forward. 

Jordan slapped at it and stepped away. “No. No way! I haven’t even played with it myself yet. Get out, go and put the kettle on. I’m going to have a shower.” 

John looked at Jordan like he’d just kicked a puppy. “Stop. You’re going to be in here playing with yourself and I’m not allowed to see it?” 

“Go,” Jordan insisted, raising his eyebrows. 

“I haven’t even kissed you yet this morning,” John whined. 

“John. I’m a bit preoccupied, mate.” 

John looked pained but he left anyway, understanding that Jordan wanted some space. When he was alone Jordan turned on the shower with a trembling hand, collapsing heavily onto the bathroom floor and tipping his head into his hands. This was too much - this was too crazy. He started to think about his family, his career, and blind panic started to bubble - he quickly employed all anxiety reducing techniques he knew, throwing the brakes on his racing thoughts and mentally locking them down into a crate. It would do no good to worry now, like this - he was in this situation whether he liked it or not. Like he’d already said, he’d have to just deal with it. 

Jordan took a deep, steadying breath and got to his feet. He pulled his shirt over his head and let his shorts drop, stepping out of them and marvelling once again in the big mirror over the sink. His tattoos were all still there, strangely masculine on this petite frame. His nipples were bigger and his chest hairless, smooth. He cupped his tits and let them drop repeatedly a few times, awed by how they bounced when he let them go. He progressed to rolling the nipples between his fingers and he frowned ever so slightly - that was weird, a weird feeling. It was good, unbelievably good - they were more sensitive than they’d been before. It was like every pinch had a corresponding twinge between his legs. He licked his lips and pressed his thighs together, biting his lip automatically at how good that felt. Being aroused in this body was different to his male body - he suddenly wanted to hump something; arousal feeling less sudden and pressing as it was with a cock and more gradual, like he wanted to take his time, wanted to work up to it. He tilted his head to the side and watched as his hair fell over his shoulders in glossy waves, thinking that he finally understood why women loved foreplay so much. 

Slowly, tentatively, he moved his right hand lower. He was almost scared to touch his vagina, instinctively mentally checking he had permission to be doing this - but it was his, it was all his. He could do what he liked with it. He slid his finger down and pressed along the slit experimentally, astonished to find that he wasn’t actually soaking wet already - he’d thought he was turned on, but it appeared this body could go further, had more levels to be unlocked. Women really did need foreplay, he mused, feeling around for it - and bingo, there was his clit. It was like his cock had shrunk ten sizes and doubled in sensitivity, there was no other way to explain the feeling of his finger pressing over it again and again. He rubbed at it in fascination and then his fingers travelled again, down down down - and inside his body. 

He pushed his finger in - it was hot in there, walls pressing around his finger on all sides - and he was astonished to note that there was no great surge of pleasure, no sudden knee shaking orgasm on entrance of the digit. He gripped the sink with his spare hand and fucked the finger in and out of himself experimentally, one brow cocked. This - this was shite, he thought. He didn’t even have a prostate anymore, Jesus - he stabbed around wildly inside his vagina looking for the g-spot but he felt nothing, nothing but soft flesh. It kind of felt like he was touching his tongue. He started to get frustrated, furious that he hadn’t had three orgasms already. He tried getting a second finger in but that just made it worse and he growled in annoyance, removing his hand and stamping his foot angrily. He set his jaw and stomped to the door, fists balled up. 

“John!” He shouted down the stairs, steam pouring from the bathroom with the door open as it was. “Come here, quickly! Hurry!” 

John came bounding up seconds later, looking worried. “Are you okay?!” He asked breathlessly, coming to a stop at the bathroom door. 

Jordan was leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his tits and his face set in a deep scowl. “My vagina doesn’t work. It’s fuckin broken.” 

John’s eyes dropped to Jordan’s vagina and he swallowed, managing to stop himself from staring by sheer force of will. “What’s - What’s the matter with it?” 

“It doesn’t feel like anything. And it won’t get wet, even though I felt like I was turned on. Swear whenever I fucked a girl before I got stuck with you all I had to do was put my cock in and she was coming.” 

John’s face softened, concern draining from his features. He nudged the bathroom door closed and visibly loosened up, a shit eating grin spreading across his mouth. “Oh. Oh, Pickford. That’s not how it works.” 

“Do not patronise me, Stones, or I swear -“ 

“What you gonna do? Beat me up? You’re tiny,” John laughed, folding his own arms across his bare chest. 

Jordan tried his best not to find John sexy right then, but it was hard. He was so big now, was the thing - he’d always been this size, of course, but now he was huge in relation to Jordan - his legs and arms and torso, his fingers so long Jordan wondered if they could reach something in his vagina that his little hands couldn’t. He thought about John manhandling him and taking charge, and he felt a positive twitch somewhere deep in his pelvis. 

“Okay, Mr fucking Grey. You know your way around a woman’s body do you? Show me.” 

John’s eyes were sparkling. “I was born for pussy, Jordan - and your cock, of course. Love that. But, yeah. Born for it.” Jordan rolled his eyes and John cracked his knuckles. “Do me a favour, let me see your tits?” 

Jordan dropped his arms, proud - they weren’t exactly his tits, it wasn’t like he’d grown them over the last 24 years - but they were still a great set and John’s eyes darkened at the sight of them. Jordan could see John’s dick starting to fatten up a bit in his boxers, and he gasped incredulously. 

“See! You’re getting hard and I’m horny too but -“ Jordan stuck his hand between his thighs and then held it up in the air - “Dry as a bone!” 

John folded his own arms as he observed smugly. “See, the thing is, Jord - alright. A vagina’s like a game of football. Soon as the whistle blows, the net’s there - the goal is literally right there - but you can’t just run up the pitch and boot it in. I mean, you could, but it wouldn’t count. Game’d be shit. You’ve gotta pass it around a bit first, warm things up. You’ve got to get through a certain amount of challenges. Got to get past the defenders and the keeper so that when the ball hits the back of the net it’s really, really satisfying.” 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“The thing is, blokes are usually ready to go pretty easily. Sometimes for no reason, sometimes waves of horniness just wash over you and you have to go with it. Women aren’t like that. You have to bring the horniness on, it doesn’t just come to you. You’ve gotta get it there, right? It won’t just get wet on sight like a boner. You have to get it wet, that’s your job as the sexual partner of the vagina owner. Christ, Jordan, can’t believe you’ve just been sticking it in - “ 

“Not the time.” 

“Right, sorry. So, I might tell you that I could easily come in my pants right now just from seeing you like that, Jordan. You have no fucking idea how sexy you are right now, and all you’re doing is standing there. I’ve never seen a better pair of tits in my life and I’ve seen many a set.” John dusted his fingers over the bulge in his pants and Jordan watched with a dry mouth as it grew magically before his eyes, easy, simple. “Might tell you that I want to eat your pussy till your legs shake. Wanna fuck you in every room in the house and see how tight you are.” John paused. “Do you feel that, Jord?” 

Jordan watched John touch himself lightly, all heavy eyes and floppy curly hair, stubble across his chin, nipples erect. He felt it alright - a dull thud right between his legs, quiet but definitely there. He wanted to touch his nipples. 

“S’gonna feel like your heart is between your legs, and that’s when you’re ready to be touched. Not touching you until you’re fucking throbbing, Jordan.” 

Jordan had to consciously unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “H - how do you know all this?” 

“I pay attention. I like my partners to enjoy sex with me. I love women, Jordan. Don’t get me wrong, I love men too - but I fucking love women. I love thighs, love the fucking cellulite on the back of a thick thigh. I love tits, oh my god - I would fucking die for tits. Big tits, little tits, one bigger than the other tits - I love putting them in my mouth, I love putting my hands on them, I love the look of them in bras, under T-shirts, when they’re wet. I love how girls smell and how soft they kiss and how skinny their fucking ankles are, I love that life exists in their bellies, I love how they sound when they come. That’s how I know. I go out of my way to know. You’re gonna know now, too, right? I’m going to show you.” 

John approached slowly, almost swaggering across the bathroom. Jordan wanted to roll his eyes and make a sarcastic comment but the wind had gone out of his sails - he was in rapture, standing there still waiting for John’s next cue. He couldn’t take his eyes off the curve of John’s biceps or the flat swell of his lower stomach. He could hardly breathe. 

John reached out and tucked Jordan’s hair behind his ear, and then he leaned in and kissed him lightly on the mouth. He had to bend down to do it, and Jordan automatically went onto his tiptoes, a hand coming to clutch at the muscle on John’s shoulder. John licked into Jordan’s mouth confidently, assuredly. It was different to the way he kissed Jordan when he was a man - John was more timid usually, and even when he was really going for it there was an air of careful submission to Jordan. This was completely different - this was John in his element. Physically flawless, mentally unruffled, assertive - Jordan leaned up and into him, his boobs pressing against John’s chest. John put his hands on Jordan’s arms and pushed him back against the sink, pulling his lips away with a self assured grin. Everything about him was cocky, calm. 

“This what you’re like with girls?” Jordan asked breathlessly, the dull thud between his legs growing stronger. “Is this the full John Stones treatment?” 

John scoffed. “You haven’t even scratched the surface, love.” He grazed his teeth against the downy skin on Jordan’s jaw, then peppered kissed down his neck. John pressed the flat of his tongue against Jordan’s neck and sucked, and Jordan felt it in his nipples, in the way he was becoming very aware that there was a clitoris between his legs and nothing was touching it. John sucked at Jordan’s collar bone and then raised his head, but at the same time brought his hand to Jordan’s boob and traced a finger around the edge of his nipple. “Tell me what it’s like having tits, Jord.” 

“Good. Feels good - so sensitive,” he got out, eyes locked on John’s. “Feels really nice.” 

John rubbed the pad of his thumb over Jordan’s nipple and it made him gasp, made the need in his vagina sharpen. He moaned quietly, turning himself on even further with how high pitched it was. John pinched at the nipple, pulling on it slightly, and Jordan moaned again - he wanted to grind down on something, anything. He looked at the erection in John’s pants and he wanted to rub his clit over it till he came. He bit down hard on his lip. 

“You like that?” John said, cool blue eyes studying Jordan’s face. 

Jordan nodded feebly and John ducked down and sucked Jordan’s nipple, the same one he’d been rubbing between his fingers. It made Jordan moan loudly with pure unadulterated pleasure - the other nipple was screaming for attention, and he tried to touch it himself but John waved his hand away, splaying his own big hand on Jordan’s ribs, right under the neglected boob. “Just wait,” he said, popping off Jordan’s nipple. The cold air hit it where John’s saliva remained and it made Jordan’s chest break out in goosebumps. 

“John,” Jordan breathed, his hand sliding up John’s bicep and resting on the side of his neck. “Really fucking turned on right now.” 

“This isn’t even half as far as this body can get, Jord,” John smiled knowingly. “Haven’t even touched your pussy yet.” 

He breathed air on Jordan’s other nipple then, and Jordan arched his back. John flicked his tongue over it a couple of times and then brought his hands underneath Jordan’s arse and lifted, taking the weight like it was nothing. He set Jordan down on the edge of the sink and told him to put his arms back to support his weight, then sank down to a crouch, starting at Jordan’s ankle and kissing his way up his leg. 

Jordan’s arms were shaking. It felt like someone was hanging a photo behind his vagina, a steady hammering sensation between his legs - thud thud thud thud thud. He really wanted to take John by the hair and shove his face between his legs, but he couldn’t find the bollocks to do it so he waited, waited as John grazed his teeth behind Jordan’s knee and sucked a bruise into his thigh. He was in his natural habitat, clearly - Jordan was absolutely fascinated by this John, by how smooth and controlled he was. 

“Where’s your heart, babe?” John said, dragging his eyes away from Jordan’s vagina to meet his eyes. He was devastatingly good looking, and Jordan choked a bit. 

“In your hands,” he said softly, completely earnest. 

John laughed at that, and it was his goofy laugh, a flash of the John that Jordan knew. “No, Jord. In your body. Where’s it loudest?” 

Jordan blushed. “Oh. It’s here. It’s between my legs. Like you said.” 

John blew air over the lips of Jordan’s vagina and he held his breath, his thighs clenching. “That’s good,” John said, his mouth so, so close. Jordan shifted his hips slightly and he felt a slickness between his arse cheeks that made him pause. 

“I’m - I’m wet!” He exclaimed, and John smirked. 

“Yes, you are.” He brought his finger up then, pushed it against Jordan’s slit. Jordan groaned, enraptured. John held up his finger and then wiped it along Jordan’s thigh, leaving a glistening trail. “So wet. This is so fucking sexy, Jordan. I’m so hard right now.” 

“I can’t believe how much I want to fuck you,” Jordan said, all breathy and airy. “You’re the hottest person alive.” 

John took his finger and ran it along Jordan’s wetness again, exploring this new vagina. “You have such a pretty pussy, Jordan. Course you do.” He used two fingers to spread him open, and Jordan’s mouth was dry. “Now, with the clit, Pickford - it’s not about this bit here, where it kind of protrudes. It’s about the bit above that, the bit underneath the skin.” John took his finger and started to trace light circles over it, over the little bump that was Jordan’s clit. 

Jordan let his head fall back and he closed his eyes as he experienced the most unbelievable sensations. It was like he’d never experienced pleasure before - this was completely new, completely wonderful. He didn’t know how it could possibly get any better than that - the trace of John’s finger, slick and sliding over and over again, building a warm heat low in his gut. It couldn’t be topped, it couldn’t possibly be better - and then John brought his mouth down and sucked, hard, and Jordan screamed. He didn’t think he was capable of such a noise - his hand came into John’s hair and he pulled it sharply, completely and utterly gone. John wasn’t the world’s best blow job giver but this - his tongue was strong and sure, every touch of it causing Jordan’s toes to curl. Jordan was probably going to come soon, he was delighted to note - but then John pulled away, his lips so shiny, his pupils so blown, and Jordan thought he was going to cry. 

“What - “ 

“Be patient, Jord. Alright.” John took his middle finger and slid it up and down Jordan, getting it nice and wet. “The trick with this,” he said, lining it up against Jordan’s hole, “is all in the positioning. I want the nail side of my finger facing down, towards your arse, like this.” He pushed his finger in and Jordan held his breath again, revelling in the sensation. “Commonly held belief says that you should kind of drag your finger in and out, like this - “ he demonstrated, his finger sliding in and out of Jordan’s vagina - “but what you really want, with your fingers, is to kind of get it in there, and bend your finger ever so slightly. I can feel the wall of your pussy, Jord, and it’s a little bit bumpy, kind of like your prostate. And I’m just gonna - “ his voice trailed off as he began stroking the inside of Jordan’s wall, up and down rhythmically, the perfect amount of pressure. Jordan’s mouth fell open - it was the weirdest kind of good feeling, kind of radiating out from inside him like heat, tingling at his clit and nipples and even down in his toes. “How does that feel?” 

“Good. Shit, that’s good. Yeah,” Jordan breathed, watching in fascination as John’s finger moved at the knuckle, up and down in tiny strokes inside him. 

“Good. Now if I can get a second one,” John said, pulling out his ring finger. “I can double the pressure there. Again, a lot of people will use the index finger but you can get deeper with the middle and ring,” he explained, sliding the second one in, making Jordan’s eyes roll. “There we go. And now I can start to move them in and out more, always focusing on that inner wall. Now it feels good there when they go in and out of you, doesn’t it?” Jordan nodded, unable to speak. “And then if I just move my thumb like this - “ John pushed his thumb into Jordan’s clit and started rubbing it, and that was it - Jordan was moaning freely, the sound of it obscene. He had no fucking idea he could feel like this - it was like his best blowjob ever on crack. “Stay with me, Jordy,” John said, tapping Jordan on the thigh. “Listen to that, do you hear that? That’s how wet you are. If you’re fingering a woman and it’s silent then she’s not wet enough.” 

“Please fuck me, John. Like, now. I want you to fuck me now.” 

John removed his fingers from inside Jordan and wiped them on his boxers, leaving a damp smear behind. “Not yet. Shower, come on. We need to shower.” 

Jordan hopped off the edge of the sink, his legs nearly buckling under him. John was stepping out of his underwear and Jordan watched his dick spring free with a slight tinge of jealousy. John was really really hard, and Jordan tried not to think too much about whether that was because he was a woman or not. 

He followed John into the shower. John kissed him under the spray for a few moments, backing him up against the shower wall and slotting a thigh between his legs that he gratefully ground down on. Then he was pulling away, running his hands through Jordan’s long hair. He took his shampoo and squirted some out, lathering it up. Jordan noted how heavy his head felt with all this wet hair on it, eyes flickering as John’s fingers worked at his scalp. 

“You should’ve been a masseuse,” Jordan mused, and John snorted. 

“Yeah, maybe. Shame I got stuck as a professional footballer. Should’ve applied myself more at school, shouldn’t I?” 

Jordan smiled. “Yeah. It’s a pity, that.” 

Then John was rinsing Jordan’s hair, bubbles running down his legs and disappearing into the drain. John washed his own hair and Jordan got onto his knees tentatively, licking appreciatively at John’s balls and cock. Giving head in this body was exactly the same as before, except now Jordan had a whole head of hair for John to tug on. 

“Never thought I’d have a woman on her knees for me again,” John said under his breath. The implications of the statement made Jordan’s stomach do somersaults. “You look so good doing that.” 

Jordan looked up at him from under his lashes, smiling as much as he could with John’s dick in his mouth. John reached out a hand and pulled Jordan up suddenly, leaning down and kissing the questions out of Jordan’s mouth. “Let’s have sex,” he breathed, kissing Jordan’s cheeks. “Come on.” 

He turned off the shower and they stepped onto the bath mat together, rubbing at each other quickly with the closest towel. Then John was leaning back down and they were kissing again, the taste of their mouths and the smell of their skin, the downy peach fuzz on Jordan’s female face contrasting to the scratchy stubble across John’s chin. Jordan stood with hands hanging aimlessly by his side, completely unable to concentrate on anything other than the feel of John’s hands ghosting over his breasts, with how he had to stretch onto his tiptoes to meet John’s lips. 

John picked him up again, because he could, and carried him into the bedroom, Jordan’s wet hair dripping all over the carpet. He dropped Jordan onto the bed with a bounce, looking over his body hungrily. “Ready?” 

Jordan sat up on his elbows and nodded, voice lost in his throat. John climbed up the bed and came to rest between Jordan’s legs, looping a hand around his thigh and pressing his face into Jordan’s pussy. Jordan let his head fall back against the mattress and his mouth opened of its own accord, a deep moan escaping him. He fisted the bed sheets as John went at it, unable to think about anything, unsure of his own name. John started fingering him and he was losing it, desperate to be filled up, anxious to have John’s face near his face. Heat was building in his stomach, and Jordan’s thighs started to shake, his heart racing. 

“Harder,” he gasped out, hips wriggling on John’s fingers. “Faster, John - Yeah,” he choked, back arching. “Like that - I’m gonna - “ and then he was coming, the most sensational orgasm he’d ever experienced - his mind went blank with overwhelming happiness, love for John, love for his clitoris. He shook through it and then pushed at John’s head, far too sensitive to endure anymore of the intense sucking John was doing. He lay there in silence, chest heaving, coming back down to earth slowly. It took a couple of seconds for him to realise that John hadn’t come up for a kiss and he cracked open an eyelid, searching. 

John was kneeling at his feet, watching him intently, bottom lip between his teeth and hand working over his cock slowly. Jordan’s eyelids fluttered as he took in the sight of him, how beautiful he was, how turned on he was. “You’re going to kill me, John Stones,” he breathed, his voice already sounding strained. John smirked and climbed up Jordan’s body, holding his weight on his forearms and pressing a kiss to Jordan’s lips. 

John’s mouth tasted different, and Jordan registered that it was himself he was tasting and he groaned, still so turned on despite coming only minutes before. “Fuck me,” he whispered, his legs spreading, hands pulling at John’s hips. “Please.” 

“I can do that,” John assured, putting a kiss on Jordan’s cheek. “I can definitely do that.” 

He took the base of his cock in his hand and ran it up and down Jordan’s pussy a couple times, enjoying the way it made Jordan shudder with sensitivity. Then they locked eyes and John pushed in, slowly and carefully, filling Jordan right up. Jordan’s mouth fell open as he experienced the sensation - it was similar to when John was inside his arse but totally different; wet and hot and tight but not painful. Jordan clenched down and John’s eyes rolled back, his whole body still. 

“This okay?” John managed. 

“Feels weird. Good weird.” 

“I’ve fucking missed this,” John breathed, his hair falling onto his forehead. “This is so good.” 

“Make love to me,” Jordan muttered into John’s ear. 

John didn’t need to be told twice. He started to move his hips, slowly and smoothly, dragging his cock in and out of Jordan’s pussy like he was painting a masterpiece, each stroke important, taking his time so as not to fuck it up. The noise of it was filthy, slick and squelchy; the sound of their bodies meeting. Jordan pulled at John’s neck and brought him into a kiss as he fucked him, the slow drag of it working Jordan up into full arousal again. He wrapped his thighs around John’s waist and groaned onto his lips, feeling full and horny and good. Just so good. 

“Ride me?” John said after a while, biting down on Jordan’s earlobe. “Ride my cock.” 

Jordan was nodding, already pushing at John so that he could climb on top of him. He felt empty when John pulled out but he wasted no time in pushing him onto his back, straddling his waist and holding up his cock as he sank down onto it. That was different again - felt different, entirely new. John had one arm propped behind his head and watched Jordan with dark eyes as he tried to find a rhythm, lowering and raising his frame so that his tits bounced with every stroke. John put his thumb on Jordan’s clit and began to rub it in circles, causing Jordan to moan involuntarily, groaning uncontrollably. John snapped his hips up in time with Jordan’s bounces, moaning himself as he watched Jordan watch his own tits in fascination. Jordan looked at John breathlessly and they couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, both awed by the fact that this was actually happening. 

“I’m so close, Jord,” John said, growing serious again. “Wanna come inside you so badly.” 

Jordan bit at his lip, thighs burning with exertion. He fell forward, head coming to rest on John’s collar bone. John took his hand off Jordan’s clit and put both of them on his hips firmly, snapping his own hips up and drilling into Jordan as hard as he could. Jordan put his hand between their bodies and rubbed at himself and chased his own orgasm, his eyes screwed closed and his breath coming in audible gasps. John was going to destroy him, he thought - he was going to literally smash him to pieces, or the bed, or the whole house - he was fucking him so hard, so desperately, and Jordan barely managed to get out John’s name before he was coming for the second time, damp heat washing over John’s cock and causing him to tip over the edge too. Jordan lay there panting on top of John with his ears ringing, barely registering what John was saying to him. 

“Jord. Jordan. You’re holding your weight,” John was saying, fingers moving up and down his spine reassuringly. “You don’t need to. I can take it.” 

Jordan didn’t realise he was lying tensely - he was so used to trying not to crush John underneath him and it was a relief to let his weight drop, a deep breath exhaling from his mouth. He wanted to fall asleep, to lay there with John’s softening cock inside him and his come trickling out forever. John wouldn’t stop talking though, his voice interrupting Jordan’s peace and quiet. He didn’t even know what John was saying, couldn’t chase the words. Jordan pushed himself up irritatedly, eyes swimming before they focussed on John’s face. 

“What on earth are you spraffing?” He demanded, frowning. 

“I’m saying I love you,” John smiled softly. 

Jordan rolled his eyes and collapsed back onto John’s chest. “Stop talking and play with my hair,” he commanded, letting his eyes close as John brought a hand against his scalp. “There we go. That’s better.” 

“You’re such a dick. I just gave you two of the best orgasms of your life.” 

“God, you’re so high maintenance.” 

“Hope my sperm are swimming to your eggs and making babies right now.” 

Jordan shot up like he’d seen a ghost, falling off the bed in a heap on the floor. “Oh my god. Shit! Fuck! John!” he squealed, running to the bathroom. “Fuuuuck!” 

— 

After John had talked Jordan down about becoming pregnant, they ate and discussed the important things - what they were going to tell people; what they’d do if this continued after tomorrow. General consensus was that it should be dealt with tomorrow and they should enjoy the female body whilst they had it. John suggested they went out to the bar later that night and pretended to pick each other up, commenting that it’d probably be a fun role play. 

Jordan wasn’t sure about being out in public like this but John looked so excited by the prospect that he grudgingly agreed, telling John he needed to take him out to buy clothes first. They made it as far as Tesco - Jordan picked a pair of inoffensive looking black boots and a packet of black tights and demanded John bring him home. He refused to look at the bras - he wasn’t getting into that - and said he’d wear one of his own shirts as a dress. 

“Can’t wear a shirt without a bra on, Jordan.” 

Jordan looked up at John like he wanted to punch him. “Why the fuck not?” he hissed, scanning his tights at the self service checkout. “Who made you the editor of Vogue?” 

“Everyone’ll see them,” John hissed back, folding his arms and glaring down at Jordan. “You’re not a bloke, Jord, you can’t go around with your tits out.” 

“I’ll do what I like. It’s 2019!” Jordan hit back, putting a twenty pound note into the money slot. “You’re so sexist.” 

John clenched his jaw and tried to remind himself that it absolutely would not go down well if he shoved Jordan over now that he was a five foot girl, and told himself to let it go - Jordan could find out for himself. John wasn’t getting involved.

Jordan took his receipt and flounced out of the store, looking ridiculous in huge men’s jogging bottoms and wearing just a pair of socks. John prayed to god to give him strength and followed after him, ignoring the people who stared at him as they searched their brains for where they knew his face. 

— 

It took them a while to get ready to go out, namely because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. John bent Jordan over the arm of the chair and ate him out from behind for 40 minutes, which then turned into a blowjob in the shower before all out intercourse shortly after. 

Jordan dressed himself in a pair of his own boxers, the black tights (he cried twice trying to get them on, utterly infuriated by them) and one of his white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. John had looked at him and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly swallowing a thousand comments. Jordan glared at him, willing him to start an argument. 

“Jordan - “ 

“What?!” 

“I can see your fucking - nothing. Never mind. Look great.” 

Jordan narrowed his eyes at John and then snapped his fingers. “Hurry up and get dressed, c’mon. I’m ready to go out.” 

John took a steadying breath and went to pull his clothes on, doing his best to hold his tongue. 

— 

They were going to take separate taxis and ‘bump into each other’ in the bar. John picked Vodka Revs, which wasn’t Jordan’s favourite, but he knew he’d been pushing his luck all day and so agreed, waving goodbye to John as he ventured out into the cold night to get into his taxi. 

He sat down in the back seat and told the driver where he wanted to go, not missing the way the guy’s eyes lingered on him in the rear view mirror. He instantly felt bad about what he was wearing, worrying that John might’ve been right. He folded his arms across his chest and scowled into the mirror, hoping the guy would take the hint and get on with his job. 

It took 10 minutes to get from their house to the bar, and Jordan didn’t tip when he left the car, slamming the door closed a little too hard. He approached the door, music spilling from the building already. He could see it was busy inside and he smiled tight lipped at the bouncer, willing him not to request ID because he didn’t think it’d go down well if he handed over a driving license claiming he was Jordan Pickford. 

The guy stared at his tits as he went in, and Jordan had to swallow down his rage. He steeled himself and walked into the place, finding his way to the bar and squeezing in beside the bodies congregated around it. The bartenders kept glancing over him, their attention drawn by the tall men leaning confidently over the counter, and Jordan wanted to scream. He rose onto his tiptoes and stared firmly at the staff, willing someone to ask what he wanted. After being ignored a third time he snapped, slamming his hands down on the bar and shouting “Can I get some service here?!” 

The guy behind the bar looked at him. “Alright, sweetheart, calm down.” 

“Not your fucking sweetheart,” Jordan spat back, certain his face was red with rage. 

“What do you want?” the guy asked sharply, clearly wanting rid of him. 

“Pint of Peroni,” Jordan said, frowning as he felt a body push up close behind him. 

The barman got Jordan’s drink and took the money Jordan put down for it, muttering “time of the fucking month” under his breath. Jordan wanted to lean over the bar and choke him but his attention was diverted suddenly as a hand settled on his backside. He span around, expecting to see John, but instead was faced with some other man, a blonde guy wearing a button up polo and a leery smirk. A flash of rage ran up Jordan’s neck, red hot and immediate. 

“Take your fucking hand off me before I break it,” he said through gritted teeth, and the guy grinned. 

“Feisty,” he said, hand remaining in place. “Did you know I can see your tits - “ 

He didn’t get to finish his sentence because Jordan had brought back his hand and propelled it into the guy’s nose. The creep didn’t fall over, as Jordan had anticipated, and he remembered he wasn’t six foot two anymore at the worst possible moment. The pervert closed his eyes and exhaled a breath, his hand rubbing at his nose, before turning his wild and angry eyes on Jordan. 

“You’ll regret that,” he muttered, about to raise his own hand. Jordan’s eyes squeezed shut and he braced for impact - but it didn’t come. 

Instead he heard the sound of the guy crying out in pain. Jordan opened his eyes and saw John head butting him, sending him sprawling to the floor like a sack of shit. People around them screamed and the bar staff began calling for security, the guy on the floor holding his bleeding nose confusedly. John and Jordan looked at each other, silently checking the other was okay, and then Jordan clocked the bouncers rushing in and John took stock of the guy’s mates squaring up for a fight and they sprinted off together, pushing past people to the nearest door. They barrelled out into the smoking area and John vaulted over the fence before remembering Jordan’s new stature and coming back to help him over it too. They escaped just in time, the security’s outstretched hand almost catching the hem of Jordan’s shirt, and sprinted down the street and out of sight. 

They paused a few minutes later, panting and wild eyed, checking they were no longer being followed. Jordan looked at John and burst into tears. They were tears of frustration and adrenalin, tears of anger and unspent energy. John wrapped his arms around him and shushed him, smoothing down his hair and telling him it was going to be okay. 

“I’m so sorry that happened,” John said, his own voice cracking. “I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you.” 

“I want to kill him!” Jordan shouted into John’s chest. “I want to go back there and murder him.” 

“I know. I know you do,” John said, kissing Jordan’s head. “I do too. Fucking clown,” he muttered, pulling Jordan’s face up to wipe at his eyes. “Let’s go home, eh? This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, Jord.” 

“Yes, it was a bad idea. Fucking terrible idea. Never listening to you again,” Jordan pouted, wiping the back of his hands against his eyes. “Stupid.” 

John hailed them a taxi and sat with his arm around Jordan the whole way home. Jordan noted that the driver didn’t look at him twice when John was with him, and he wanted to scream some more. He was exhausted, though, utterly fatigued, and he vowed to go crazy about this another day. 

Back in the house John stripped Jordan of his clothes and left him in his boxers, picking him up and carrying him room to room with apologetic kisses, whispering sorries into his neck and jaw, pushing his nose into Jordan’s hair and breathing deeply. 

“S’not your fault,” Jordan said eventually, his hands exploring the surface of John’s face. “Not your fault.” 

They made love again, in the dark of their bedroom, and John cried after he came. Jordan petted his hair as he rested his head between his boobs and sobbed and asked “What’s wrong?” 

“This - I - anything could’ve happened to you,” he said, and Jordan wanted to tell him not to be so melodramatic but it was true, anything could’ve. He found he had a new respect for women, one that he regretted he’d needed to be a woman to find, and he felt himself tear up again. 

“It didn’t. You were there. You got me in time.” 

“Wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Jord. Ever. Man or woman.” 

“I know.” 

“I love you.” 

“I know.” 

They fell asleep curled around each other, breath mingling between them. 

— 

Jordan woke up in the middle of the night with John starfished across him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. He had his face tucked into Jordan’s neck and Jordan shoved at him. 

“John!” he grunted - and then froze. 

“Mm?” 

“John. My voice - get up!” Jordan cried, shoving John more forcefully. He jumped out the bed, scrambling for the light switch, and looked down at himself. He was a man again - his chest was flat, his legs were hairy. He pulled down his boxers and let out a sob of joy at the sight of his penis. “I’m a bloke again!” 

John was sitting up in the bed with one eye shut, half asleep. Recognition dawned across his face as he remembered the previous 24 hours and he lumbered out the bed too, tripping over his own feet and closing the distance between himself and Jordan on his knees. “Your cock!” he cried, voice thick with sleep. “Oh my god,” he said, putting his hands on the back of Jordan’s thighs and nuzzling his face against Jordan’s crotch. “Oh my god.” 

“What happened to mr fucking pussy?” Jordan said, unable to keep from laughing a bit. “Thought you proper missed a good vagina?” 

“Pussy’s pussy, but your cock is special, Jord,” John said, looking up at him. “Don’t ever become a woman again. Please.” 

“If you insist,” Jordan laughed, pulling him to his feet. It was good to be eye to eye again, normal. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, you great big manly man.” 

They kissed, climbed back into bed. Jordan wrapped himself around John and decided that, whilst vaginas were fun, he was happy the way he was. Some things were just better as they were.


End file.
